My Heart Can't Tell You No (75 page)

“Put it down. Don’t—don’t do it, Jackie. Mouse. Mom.” Joe turned slightly, seeming to relax only a second before Maddie watched him tense up again. “Put it down. Give me the gun. We’re going home, Jackie—don’t. Jackie!
Don’t
!”

Maddie watched with shock as Joe sat straight up in bed, his eyes wide as he tried to gain control of his breathing. His words made little sense to her at first. Jackie didn’t have a gun, and any guns her brothers or father owned were out of his reach, if not his sight. Then she realized he wasn’t dreaming of their son at all. He was dreaming of her brother, the first Jackie. His words that were puzzling to her at first were coming together and igniting the suspicion that all wasn’t as it had seemed.

“Joe?” she said quietly as she sat up next to him, his startled expression as he turned to look at her telling her that he didn’t know what he had said.

“I’m sorry.” He turned away from her and reached for a cigarette as he placed his feet on the floor. “Did I wake you?”

“Your son isn’t the only one who talks in his sleep.” She folded herself onto her knees and moved closer to him. “He isn’t the only one who has nightmares, because he saw something in real life that terrified him.”

“I—talked in my sleep?” He watched the tip of his cigarette. “What—did I say?”

“You said you’ve been carrying a huge secret for a long time.” She moved behind him to place her arms around his shoulders. “You said you’ve been feeling guilty about something you had no control over.”

“What are you talking about?” He inhaled deeply on his cigarette.

“I’m talking about my brother—Jackie.”

“What about him? He’s dead. He got hit by a sniper.”

“Or did that bullet come from his own gun?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly as he got to his feet and moved away. “You were only a kid—how in the hell would you know what happened—and why?”

“Joe, you were only a kid too. Twenty-one is still only a boy, no matter what the law says.”

“A boy? I was old enough to be shipped overseas—to watch my friends get their legs and arms blown off as if they were some kind of insects. I was old enough to watch them burn alive and not be able to do a damn thing about it.”

“And old enough to fool the officials as well as your best friend’s family when he committed suicide,” Maddie sighed.

“Did I say that?” he asked angrily as he turned to look at her. “He was killed! And that war killed
him
just the same as any of the others!”

“Are you sure he didn’t go into that war kind of hoping he wouldn’t come out of it? Are you sure he wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger that day?”

Joe stared at her a long moment, his eyes holding an anger and pain that made her yearn to comfort him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?” She rose and stood before him. “You haven’t
wanted
to
talk
about
it
for almost fifteen years now.”

“Maddie!” He turned away from her. “You don’t know what it was about! You don’t know what it was like over there!”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t pretend to. But I know what it’s like right here—right now. You were scared senseless when you were sleeping. You didn’t even know where you were when you woke up. I have an idea you were right back there with Jackie.”

“Just go back to sleep.” He leaned toward an ashtray and flicked off some ash. “You need your rest.”

“Did my brother kill himself?” Maddie stared at him. She really didn’t care if he had, one way or the other anymore. She had grieved the loss of Jonas Baker fourteen years ago.
Who
took his life didn’t matter anymore. What did matter was the man standing in the same room with her, the man who was still carrying the guilt of his death.

“Go to bed,” he told her.

“I said—did my brother kill himself?”

“And I said go to bed.”

“Did my brother kill himself?”

“Go to bed, Maddie!”

“Did Jackie kill himself?”

“YES!! The rotten son-of-a-bitch sent me away so I couldn’t stop him! Then left a Goddamn suicide note no one would understand but me! If the bastard would’ve just shot himself and left it at that I might have been able to convince myself it really was a sniper! But he didn’t! He left a note! Just for me! Just for me to find—just like he left his half blown-away head—just for me to find! He was supposed to be older! Supposed to be smarter! Stronger! Wasn’t
he
the one who had the prime choice of all the girls in high school?! The
star
of that Goddamned football team? The damn
leader
?! And the bastard just blew himself away! Knowing everything would fall back on me! Knowing I’d either cover up for him—or come home and have to tell you, Mom and Jack that the
golden
boy
tricked me into letting him kill himself! Well, I took the easy way out! I fixed everything just so I didn’t have to face two adults and an eleven-year-old girl and tell them I screwed up! I couldn’t keep the lousy son-of-a-bitch alive for two fuckin’ days to bring him home to ya!”

Maddie sighed deeply as she moved to a chair near her dresser and sat down. “So—he did commit suicide.” She looked up at him. “He left a note? What did it say?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” He turned to go out the door.

“Joe! Knock it off!” Her voice stopped him. “I’m not eleven years old anymore! What did it say?!”

“It said
‘Looks
be
damned.’
” He looked back at her. “Now—do you understand?”

“No. Do you?”

“Of course
I
understand—
I
was supposed to understand. He felt if he hadn’t been so
attractive
he wouldn’t have attracted Sue, and then Brenda and his baby would still be alive.”

Sue? Brenda? Maddie had to think a moment to try to remember those names from her childhood. “You mean that cheerleader, and his girlfriend he wanted to marry? She was found hanging off the bridge. She was pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“And Jackie felt the cheerleader had something to do with her death?”

“We
knew
it, but we couldn’t prove it.”

“And he felt it was his
attractiveness
that caused it all?” Maddie said with disbelief. “That was stupid! He wasn’t so great looking. Above average—maybe—but not great.”

“He was your brother. You wouldn’t have seen it.”

“So, instead of trying to come back and prove someone killed his girlfriend—he shot off his face so he wouldn’t attract any more girls? That’s ridiculous!”

“Sue was already dead. He just got a letter from Tom telling him she was killed in a car accident. Jackie almost seemed pleased she was killed under those circumstances.”

“What circumstances?”

“Never mind. But I don’t think the guy put a gun to his chin in hopes of becoming unattractive. He wanted to end it.”

“End what?!” She stood up in frustration.

“His torment. It was eating him up—knowing that because of him, his girl and kid were dead.”

“Do
you
believe that?”

“Believe what, Maddie?! That those were his reasons?! Jesus, he told me!”

“No. Do you believe it was his fault Brenda was killed?”

“Sort of. But not completely. If it hadn’t been Brenda and Jackie—Sue would have done it to some other poor idiot.”

“Did you try to explain that to Jackie?”

“Yes. But he wouldn’t listen.”

“Then stop trying to blame yourself for his death. It was no more your fault than it was mine. It was a sickness—a sickness that spread. Sue had it—it spread to Jackie. Don’t let it eat at you too. You’re doing the same thing Jackie did. It wasn’t Jackie’s fault Brenda died—it was Sue’s. Just like it wasn’t your fault Jackie died—it was his. The only thing you’re guilty of is trying to talk him out of it, then caring so much about us that you kept it inside for fourteen years. For all you know you might have successfully stopped him a dozen times. Like you said, it was eating at him a long time. And you also mentioned that in two days you would have been on your way home. Jackie didn’t
want
to come home or he’d be here now, probably married with six or seven kids.
He
had the choice—but he didn’t even
try
to make it. He didn’t see it. He didn’t look for it. He didn’t have the
strength
to look for it, so your
leader
let it all fall on
your
shoulders.”

“That sounds good, Maddie,” he said slowly as he crushed out his cigarette. “but those words don’t take away the memory of him lying there by that tree.”

“No, I don’t suppose they do,” she sighed as she went to him and rested her head against his chest and put her arms around his waist. “But don’t let that memory outweigh what you have now. You were forced to see things no one should ever have to see. I wish I could erase it from your mind and make it go away.”

His arms went around her. “I was always so afraid you’d find out what happened. And I can’t say which frightened me more—the thought of your discovering that he didn’t die in the line of duty, but at his own hand—or the thought of your being thoroughly disappointed in me when you found out I couldn’t stop him.”

“Well, I found out. And I’m not devastated over the news that my brother committed suicide. It’s been too long since it happened. If it were to happen now, today, it would tear me down. But I’d build myself back up with your help. I grieved his death a long time ago. I don’t feel
the
way
he died makes any difference to me now. And I’m not disappointed in you. You were there with him. You kept him going until that day. And then, when he finally outran you, you pulled all the pieces together to protect my family. How can I be disappointed in that?”

“I love you, Madelyn Baker.” He kissed her forehead.

“I think I’m starting to believe that.” Maddie smiled gently up at him.

“You are?” His eyes looked at her with adoration. “Well, it’s about time you started to let it sink in.”

“I wouldn’t have any objections at all if you’d keep trying to convince me.”

CHAPTER XLIII
 

January 1985

A
s Joe stood outside the Baker house waiting for the tiny shivering puppy to go, he couldn’t help thinking about the expression on Jackie’s face when Joe had entered the house. It was clear there was
something
going on that he had interrupted, and he imagined it had something to do with the marriage that would take place in a little over an hour. He wasn’t positive of the time—it was too cold for him to lift his arm and look at his watch. But when he had left his house after dressing and collecting the wedding bands, he had one hour and fifteen minutes to gather up Maddie and get her to the court house in town.

Joe glanced over at the large thermometer on Jack’s tool shed. It read fifteen below zero. The extreme stinging numbness of his cheeks told him the wind was taking it down to at least thirty below. The darkened glasses guarded his eyes from the harsh iciness of the wind as the Arctic blast beat down upon them. As he gazed at the small animal barely keeping his head above the fresh snowfall from the previous night, he pitied him completely. He certainly wouldn’t trade places with him.

“Come on, little guy.” Joe picked up the pup and immediately turned back toward the front door with him. “It’s about time you finished.”

“Not one more word!” Maddie’s voice came to him as he walked across the porch toward the kitchen door.

“Then I’m moving up here with Gram and Pap!” Jackie argued back.

“No you’re not. You’re living where
we
say you live. You’ve got ten more years until you do what you want—until then you’re under
my
thumb.”

“That’s not fair!”

“It’s fair to me. And that’s what counts.”

“Why?!”

“Because I’m the mother—and you’re the son—and that’s the way those things work. I tell you what to do—and you’re
supposed
to do it.”

“Rob, here. Take the dog in the room and warm it up.” Joe entered the kitchen and handed the puppy to his youngest child. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Maddie said tightly as she fitted a thick pair of gloves to match her insulated jacket that she had pulled down over her stomach and half of her bottom, and the wool hat that was pulled down over her hair.

“Where are you two going?” Sarah asked sleepily as she came from her bedroom.

“Court house,” Maddie told her while keeping a strict eye on her son.

“You’re getting married dressed like that?!” Sarah was cupping an arthritic hand as she stared wide-eyed at Maddie.

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Maddie looked down at her denim maternity pants and thick insulated boots. “You should see what I got on under the coat.”

“What’s under the coat? You look like you’re tromping out of an army camp.”

“Flannel shirt and thermal underwear. I have on insulated socks too,” Maddie smiled at her.

“There’s been warnings on the news for two days to stay inside.” Jack entered the kitchen with an empty coffee mug. “Even telling you to get your pets in the house so they don’t freeze. So you two have to pick today to get married.”

“We should be okay as long as we don’t stay out in it. Drive to town, go in the court house, come out and drive home. How simple is that?” Joe told the older man.

“We’ll be fine,” Maddie agreed.

“Lets get started then. The truck’s running.” Joe opened the door for her, letting her go ahead of him, but when Jackie watched her go, he burst into tears and ran for the stairs. Joe looked helplessly at Sarah.

“Just go. He’ll get over it,” Sarah assured him.

With a heavy sigh, Joe went out the door, but the great gust of wind that met Maddie as she opened the porch door turned her to quickly face him as she hunched her shoulders against the cold.

“You’re sure about this?” he smiled at her.

She moaned as the wind died down long enough for her to turn back outside and made another attempt to brave the weather. “I’m sure.”

What usually was a fifteen minute drive to town took more than half an hour because of the icy roads and the wind that seemed to be pushing the truck back with every gust. The ceremony was as simple as could be, a few words, a few signatures on the appropriate paperwork and all was done. The ride back home was a cold one, even with the heater running full blast—they were nearly three quarters of the way home before massive shivers stopped shaking their bodies. Joe watched with amusement as Maddie removed her gloves, then reached to take off his left glove, inspecting the matching bands again and again with satisfaction shining from her eyes.

“It looks like Tom brought the boys down. Do you want to stop here or go up to Mom’s first?” Joe said, seeing light in Maddie’s living room window.

“We might as well go home.”

He looked doubtfully at her driveway—it was so damned steep—he just hoped those ashes and cinders he had spread that morning took hold. Even with his studded tires, they slid twice before they were finally parked in front of the house and she was moving to get out of the truck. Joe joined her and helped her up the salted steps, the wind blowing so hard that it ripped the storm door out of her hands and broke the hydraulic closure and chain, slamming it against the side of the house.

“So much for a surprise entrance.” Maddie opened the door and quickly passed into the warmth of her living room.

“Are you sure?!” Tom’s voice insisted as Joe pulled a reluctant storm door closed, then the inner door, before he turned to see the almost frantic state of Tom’s stare as he looked at Maddie and spoke into the telephone. “All right, then I think you’d better get up here fast. I’m at Maddie’s. Yes, they just came in. No, I didn’t have the chance to tell them yet. Bye.”

“Tell us what?” Maddie asked hesitantly as she pulled off her hat and scarf.

Tom looked at Joe, a white tinge to his face as he swallowed with difficulty. “It’s Jackie. We’ve looked through all four houses—and even called his friends down the road—the Kerstetters. We can’t find him. The last we saw him was about forty-five minutes ago.”

“Forty-five . . . ?!
God
! If he’s out in this . . . !” Joe stopped, looking over at Maddie as she started back through the house, quickly checking all the rooms before returning to the living room and grabbing her hat and scarf again.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Tom asked as he grabbed her arm.

“Where do you think?!”

“I think you’re staying right here. You’ve got this baby to think about now. We’ll go out and find him,” Joe told her

“I can’t just sit here!” Maddie insisted.

“You will!” Joe felt a tightness spread throughout his chest as he looked at her, a helplessness that tore him down, a fear that had his pulse racing until he felt as if he were going to explode. If he ever doubted his love for that boy, his and Maddie’s oldest son, those doubts were slaughtered by the fears swarming through him. His mind was racing. Where could a kid that age want to go so badly he’d try to battle
this
weather? The reason he took off was clear to Joe—a thoughtless stunt, done in retaliation against their marriage. He pulled on his gloves and started for the door again.

“Where are you going?” Tom took a few steps toward him.

“Where’s Robby?” Joe asked.

“Up with Mom and Dad.” Tom started closing buttons on his coat. “Wait—I’ll come with you.”

“There’s no time to wait. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

“Lew,” Maddie’s voice was choked as she looked over at Joe. “He’s been talking about visiting Lew’s grave.”

“Well, that’s somewhere to start anyway,” Joe said.

“Here—take these with you. You’ll need as much protection as you can get.” Maddie gave her scarf and hat to him, then hugged him briefly before releasing him so he could try to find their child.

“Maddie, does he know where the cemetery is?” Joe held onto her arms.

“No, not really. He asks and I only tell him it’s in that direction.” She pointed in the opposite direction of the Baker house. “That’s all he knows—unless he remembers seeing the cemetery when we’d pass it on the highway. But I really don’t know if he made the connection.”

“That means he could have gone any of three ways. The path down here, the road and on up the blacktop, or else that dirt road down by the stop sign.” He looked over at Tom. “Can you drive my truck over the dirt road?”

“Yeah.” Tom was already on his way to the door, taking the keys Joe offered him.

“Then let me drive up the black top,” Maddie beseeched Joe.

“If you don’t see him I want you back here in the house. Do you hear me? I don’t want to be out there worrying about you as well as Jackie,” Joe warned her.

“I will.”

“Then I’ll get started up the path. Before you leave, call John and tell him to drive down this road in the other direction, then back over the other highway. Just in case he didn’t head toward the cemetery.”

“I will,” Maddie called back to him as he started out the door.

“Joe!” Tom called from the opened window of the truck. “He took the dog and his backpack. They weren’t up at the house after we found out he was missing.”

“Maddie!” Joe called over his shoulder.

“I heard—it’s a blue backpack. He’s probably wearing his blue snowsuit too,” she called back as she started for the telephone to call John.

Joe made his way down the driveway, the ashes and cinders providing even less traction for his feet than they had for his tires. At the end of the driveway, he only had to walk two or three yards to get to the path he had been talking about. It had been the main road that snaked its way through the ravine for about one hundred yards before connecting the blacktop with the rest of the road that traveled past the Bakers’ and his homes. It had been discarded twenty-five years before when the highway department had built a straighter section of road in its place. There were only small patches of macadam left beneath the nearly six inches of snow on the ground, and, by the feel of it, about half an inch of ice. The stones protruding where the macadam had washed away gave him some traction. As he hurried down the road, the steady decline into the wooded valley gave him some protection from the wind, a protection he knew would last for another mile of his journey before he encountered a large clearing where a local gun club had built a man-made pond.
God
, he thought as his steps gained speed, he had to pray that the boy wouldn’t try to cross that pond. Even if it was frozen over, he might step on a soft spot, and the pond was more than thirty feet deep.

As Joe came to the bend in the old section of road, he started up a single-lane path, a road used so many years ago he couldn’t remember just
who
had used it or
why
. It was so deep in the valley that he could hear the wind roaring through the treetops high above his head. The cries of the trees bending to the wind’s will almost seemed to scream in protest. He was no more than ten yards up the slow but steady incline of the decayed road when he spotted the first break in the otherwise untouched snow-drifted sea of whiteness. It was a large indentation, and, as he moved his eyes up the hillside, he could see that something, or someone, had fallen down that last part of the hill and slid onto the level road. A closer look revealed the same footsteps that had angled from the back of Maddie’s house. So, Jackie’s sense of direction was keener than Joe thought. He hadn’t wanted to chance being seen going down the driveway, so he had angled his way through the woods until he came to this road. Joe’s eyes moved back to where Jackie had fallen, seeing the slowly vanishing footsteps that headed up the path toward the gun club. Well, at least he knew he was headed in the right direction. He prayed he’d make it to the boy in time.